


Watching from Heaven

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Awesome Rowena MacLeod, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Crack, Dean Winchester Being an Idiot, Dean Winchester in Heaven, Depression, Disassociation, Eventual Smut, Family Feels, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Heaven, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Mental Health Issues, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Parental Jody Mills, Possessive Lucifer, Protective Crowley, Quote: Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically irrationally erotically codependent on each other, Sam Winchester Loves Dean Winchester, Season/Series 11, Self-Harm, Smut, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, Torture, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Dean wakes in Heaven, Sam is stuck with Lucifer, and Gabriel needs to sort the situation
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 45
Kudos: 125





	1. Issues

Dean had been to Hell, but this was worse. Knowing his brother was all alone, knowing that Sam was in danger. He didn’t even care where he was, shooting upright and reaching for the knife that should have been by his side, only to see people that shouldn’t exist. They were speaking, lips moving, words tumbling out that Dean couldn’t quite make out, the ringing in his ears still too much to comprehend.

‘Enough!’ That broke through it, the familiar face of Bobby Singer shoving the others back, crouching down to reach for Dean’s arm, a touch that the Hunter narrowed his eyes at. Two things were wrong with this situation, the first being that he had only been with Sam when he shut his eyes. The second, Bobby Singer was dead. Which led Dean to reach for his neck, to see if he could find a pulse.

‘Dean, what’s going on?’ Where was he? Was this… Heaven? Dean shuffled away from his former mentor, one could even call him an Uncle, and looked around. Ash, the second person he focused on. He was leaning against the bar, just like he had been when Sam and Dean had visited Heaven. Now, Dean knew that Gabriel, once they found out he was alive, had done some rearranging to the order in Heaven. But this was absurd.

‘That’s Dean?’ The voice was soft, mellow, and exactly how he remembered it in his fuzzy memories. He stood, reaching for the wall to support his weight, staring at the woman opposite him. Blonde hair, bright eyes, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Even without the typical Winchester fashion, Dean would have recognised his Mother anywhere.

‘Mom?’ His throat hurt, words scratching against the roof of his mouth as he forced them out. Her eyes widened, tears forming, and it was then that he turned his attention to the man next to her. John Winchester, looking just as hurt as Mary was, and Dean clutched his head.

‘Easy, boy.’ That was Bobby, back by his side, and Dean let himself relax slightly. Ellen and Jo were also in the room, standing close to Ash, and he felt the familiar pang of guilt at seeing them. Then, just as he thought he had seen everyone, he spotted her.

‘Charlie.’ She laughed as he pulled her in tightly, gripped her shirt so hard that he was surprised it didn’t tear. Red hair tickled his nose, but he couldn’t care, clutching at her even when he pulled back. He kissed her forehead, not quite believing she was standing in front of him.

‘Dean, why are you here?’ That was John, voice hurt, and Dean took a moment to realise that he must be dead. He was in Heaven, with the people he loved, not breathing. Pushing past the headache, he remembered what exactly he had been doing prior to this. No…

‘Gabriel. Gabriel you sonofabitch, let me out!’ He spun, looking for a door, while Bobby murmured something that sounded like Trickster under his breath. Dean made it to a door, desperately trying to yank it open. Because Gabriel had ensured that they both got to share a Heaven, that they could see their family. But he shouldn’t be dead.

It was John and Bobby that finally got him to stop pounding at the door, but Dean didn’t care. Tears, actual tears were spilling down his cheek, and he thought his heart might be breaking. His Dad looked lost, but Bobby had known them for a long enough time to know what was wrong.

‘Dean, where’s Sam?’

**

One second, his brother had been by his side. Sam had rejoiced knowing that they were going to die together, that they would both be out of the misery that this situation held. Castiel had been banished, Gabriel wasn’t answering prayers, and the Bunker was no longer safe. Rowena was unavailable, Crowley would never risk his life like this, so they had nobody. Nobody but each other.

Castiel had said yes to Lucifer, releasing him from the Cage. That was bad enough, but now the Devil was standing in the Bunker, full of a lot of rage, ready to kill everything in sight. So, Sam had looked to his brother, smiled even when he saw the worried expression, knew that at least their pain would be over.

Now, the Winchester stood still, staring at Dean’s body. The sob tore from his throat, the scream so loud that it echoed, and Sam thought anything would be better than this.

**

Castiel swore at the door opened, as the power drove him into the room. His Grace was restrained, body weak, and even as he stood up to attack the door, he knew it would be no good.

‘Cas?’ The Seraph spun, confused when his eyes met that of his best friend, Dean Winchester, who looked just as broken as Castiel felt. The Angel could barely believe it, taking a step towards him, the wooden floor creaking under his step.

‘Dean? How…’ Looking around confirmed a couple of the queries Castiel had, mostly the fact that everyone around him was dead. Some he didn’t recognise, but the others had been his friends. Charlie, especially, had come to be a close companion.

‘We’re in Heaven.’ Dean pointed out, Castiel about to confirm it, when a sound broke through their concentration. In the corner, the TV screen flickered to life, the static slowly clearing to reveal the Bunker. Castiel would recognise the Library anywhere, even with the tables broken and the chairs flung to the sides. It was the sobbing sound that caught his attention, eyes narrowing on the body lying on the floor. Only when the person hunched over moved slightly did he realise who it was.

Dean.

**

Sam shook his brother, desperate for him to speak, to open his eyes and say something funny. Anything, to call him a bitch, to call his hair girly. But Dean didn’t move, his neck still at a funny angle, and Sam sobbed harder. His tears were soaking his brother’s shirt, but Sam couldn’t find it in him to care, pressing his head to his brother’s chest as he hunched over.

‘Oh Sammy, I told you what would happen.’ Lucifer took another step closer, looking thoroughly amused with the situation. The Hunter looked down, to lax body of his brother, trying to recall why he ever thought they could beat the Devil. Dean was dead, and it was clear Lucifer didn’t intend to kill him, otherwise he would have done so. No, Sam was always Lucifer’s, that much was clear.

‘Kill me.’ He whispered, then shouted, then begged. The Devil cocked his head, a smirk that only made Sam sob harder. Dean was so still, slowly cooling under his touch, and Sam could remember every time he had seen this happen. Every single death, every time he lost his brother. It never got easier, he just couldn’t do it. The only option was death, without his brother, he had nothing.

‘I thought you understood, Sammy, you’ll always be my bitch.’ The mention of the word that Dean always called him, their inside joke, had Sam’s heart hardening. Cradling Dean’s head, he lowered to press a kiss to his brother’s forehead, letting the final tears leak from his eyes. His hand moved, skirting down Dean’s chest, ignoring the pain at thinking his brother would never hug him again. He reached his brother’s hand, the Angel Blade still tightly gripped, slowly took it from his brother and looked to Lucifer.

‘That’s not smart.’ Lucifer said smugly, even as Sam staggered to his feet, blind with the pain.

‘You killed him.’ His brother. The only person he had left. Lucifer rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall. Sam stumbled forwards, tightening his grip, ready to attack. Lucifer didn’t stop him, not until Sam was close enough to actually cause injury. The blade vanished as he lunged, and Lucifer caught him. Sam couldn’t stop the sobs, too many times losing Dean, and Lucifer threaded fingers into his hair.

‘That’s it, Sammy, I’m here now.’ Sam sunk, Lucifer letting him drop down to the ground, before the grip turned harsh. His head was yanked back, a blade suddenly pressed to his neck.

‘We missed you, down in the Cage. So many missed opportunities.’ The knife sliced through skin, right over his collarbone, and Sam gritted his teeth and looked to the Devil.

‘The answer’s the same as always. No.’ Lucifer chuckled, baring teeth in a feral grin.

‘That’s the fun part.’

**

Gabriel had felt the world scream out, knew that there were issues. The Angels were running around in chaos, Heaven having been breached. The Archangel knew that Castiel was in Heaven, as was Dean Winchester’s soul, but Sam hadn't yet come. Which could only mean that his brother had him, and that was bad news.

Walking into the Bunker wasn’t his idea of good news, not when he could feel Lucifer’s Grace from here. The stench of blood followed, and as he rounded the corner, it was his first sight. Blood, everywhere. That and the dead body of Dean Winchester, an issue he would try and solve later. If he lived for long enough to kill Lucifer.

Gabriel wasn’t stupid enough to walk in empty handed. He had the Witch and the King of Hell backing him, both of them rallying to support when they heard that Dean Winchester was dead. Now, as he walked into the library, he actually flinched. Sam Winchester had probably been healed multiple times, but it didn’t stop his body from looking like something from a horror show.

**

He focused on his rising and falling chest, not on the way his skin had been peeled, or on the body of Lucifer straddling him. The Devil looked like Christmas had come early, hands a dark red from the blood. He’d lost his shirt and jeans, somewhere between the second and fifth time his legs had been broken. Now, Sam tried to recall exactly why he was lying on a table, strapped down, wishing he could join his big brother.

**_‘Feeling alright, Sammy?’_ **

**_‘This is how you get your kicks?’_** It was a bad idea to talk back to Lucifer, even in his native tongue. Lucifer’s hands slipped under the boxers, quickly followed by the knife, and Sam screwed his eyes shut. Honestly, Michael would have been a pleasure at this point. At least it would have given him a chance to rest, Michael found it more fun to stretch out the time, allowing for short breaks.

‘Big brother isn’t coming, is he?’ Lucifer mocked, although why it was in English, Sam didn’t know. The Devil seemed to know something he didn’t, which wasn’t rare, Sam never knew what was going on in Lucifer’s head. Lucifer’s head turned, looking to Dean, before a hand gripped Sam’s chin and forced it to turn.

But it wasn’t what caught Sam’s eye. Instead, he looked to the Archangel in the doorway, a mixture of relief and fear.

‘Seems I’m a little late to the party.’ Gabriel drawled, reaching for the Angel blade in his jacket. Lucifer climbed from Sam’s chest, and only then did Sam realise just how much the weight had been doing to stem blood flow.

‘Fighting over MY Vessel?’ Lucifer snarled, looking just as angry. Sam, meanwhile, was working on getting away. The straps weren’t too difficult to break from, not now that Lucifer wasn’t paying attention, and he focused on rolling from the table and onto the floor. Lucifer turned slightly, but paid no attention as Gabriel focused.

‘I think Sam Winchester belongs to nobody but himself.’ Gabriel snapped, and Lucifer found that far to amusing. As did Sam, who had managed to drag his broken body to Dean’s. As Gabriel shouted for Rowena, as Lucifer spread his wings and lunged for Gabriel, Sam lifted his big brother’s arm and tucked himself under it, curled up against the one person that had always managed to keep him safe.

‘I’ll see you soon, De.’ He muttered, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget the pain in his body.


	2. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's got a job to do, Dean's got a brother to look after

Gabriel felt the burn, ignoring it as he raised himself back to his feet, staring at his stronger brother. Lucifer was, without a doubt, more powerful than Gabriel. But it didn’t matter too much, he had the ability to be patient. Rowena was muttering the words, trapping the Devil in the room. Momentarily, Gabriel looked to Sam Winchester, who had managed to drag his broken form to the dead body of his brother. It was almost peaceful, the two of them curled up, both of them looking dead.

‘I’m sorry Luci.’ And Gabriel was, even as Rowena caged him down, the Devil’s eyes glowing as he approached with the blade. Stabbing his brother wasn’t really what he wanted to do, but he would do it, it had to be done.

Lucifer had other ideas. Gabriel got too close, went flying back and hit the wall. The Archangel blade his hand, and he watched it skid across the ground towards Sam. The Hunter moved, and it was so slick that the Trickster almost missed it.

**

Sam switched the blades, making sure to keep the focus on his hand, not the normal Archangel blade that he used to hide the real blade. Lucifer watched him tuck it against his arm, standing up and kicking the other blade to Dean’s body. The Devil hadn't noticed, looked amused as Sam rose up. The fake trip was simple, catching the leather of Dean’s jacket and almost dropping the blade.

His brother had taught him this trick. A way to cheat an opponent without someone else noticing. The blade reached Gabriel, while the Devil watched the one in Sam’s hand, and the Hunter stepped closer, keeping the blade tucked to his arm. That way, the Devil wouldn’t notice it was just a plain blade.

‘You can’t kill me with that.’ Lucifer chuckled, and Sam understood. He wasn’t an Archangel, he couldn’t kill the Devil. Another step closer, giving Gabriel the time to sneak up on him, Rowena keeping the Devil’s Grace pinned.

‘You’re right. But it’ll still hurt.’ Another step, into the blood that had been his. Wobbling legs that threatened to give out, a burning pain inside his head from the mess that had been made of his body, but Sam didn’t care. All he cared about was getting rid of Lucifer, then joining his brother.

‘But I’m not the one about to kill you.’ Gabriel lunged, the Devil realising too late the trap, and Sam ducked his head as light burst free. The Archangel howled, a sound that echoed his True Voice, but Sam was already back on the floor, going to Dean’s side, slowly resuming his position by his side.

Only once the pounding light had faded, once his ears had stopped ringing, did he look across to the Archangel.

‘Will you kill me?’ He hoped that Gabriel would, so he could go to wherever Dean was, just so he didn’t have to sit with his dead brother for the rest of his life. Worse, if Gabriel said no, Sam might have to do it himself. He was never strong willed, didn’t know if he could actually pull off his own suicide.

‘Sammich, I don’t need to.’ The Hunter watched the Archangel bend down, hand moving to Dean, and Sam fought the hope that threatened to build. It was always his downfall, but Gabriel was nodding, and Sam was crying before he could stop it.

‘Don’t do that to me. Don’t give me hope.’ They were friends, why would Gabriel do that? But the Archangel smiled, his hand beginning to glow, and Sam felt his heart clench.

‘Have faith, Samalam.’

**

Dean had gone from worry, to panic, to screaming and kicking the door, to sitting in front of the screen and watching as his baby brother was cut up. It wasn’t like he hadn't seen torture before, it had been the same in the Pit. Apart from the fact this was Lucifer, with infinite knowledge on how to make a person break, on regenerating and then slashing Sammy up over and over. His little brother never spoke of the Cage, but Dean knew it was bad.

Castiel had been doing the same as Dean, Grace building and bursting out, but not even he could break free. The Angel was angry, swearing to anyone that would listen. Nobody touched Sam without a death threat from Dean or Cas, that was clear. The moment that Gabriel showed up, Castiel had abandoned attacking the door to come to Dean’s side, watching as Lucifer climbed from Sam’s torso.

Watching his baby brother drag himself to Dean’s body, Chuck that was awkward to think about, the Hunter had fought tears. Castiel had gripped his arm, a silent confirmation that they were both just as broken watching this. Bobby had gone quiet from his ranting, the room silent as Gabriel tried to take out the Devil.

Then Sam rose, and Dean saw it, felt a smile threaten to break across his tear-stained face at the fact that his baby brother remembered the trick he had taught him when they were younger. The Devil burning up had been a relief, the sound made all of them wince, but Sam had gone back to Dean’s side. The older Hunter wished he could tell Sam that it was alright, that he could hold him, but he couldn’t. Forced to listen to his brother ask to be killed by an ally of theirs, forced to watch more tears in those pretty hazel eyes, always too expressive.

The pain started in his chest, as Gabriel’s hand glowed.

‘Let go, Dean. I’ll be there soon.’ Castiel promised, and he saw what the Angel wasn’t saying. Look after Sam, make sure he understood that Dean was back. The Hunter had only a moment to look to his family, to the friends he had lost, before his head pounded.

Waking up wasn’t pleasant, but a sobbing Sam latching onto him was what he had needed. He found his arms moved on instinct, grabbing his baby brother and guiding him to his chest as he sat up. Sam was always a loud crier, especially when he got going, but Dean couldn’t care less about the mess of his leather jacket as Sam’s arms wrapped around him.

‘Easy, baby brother.’ And when Sam pulled back, bright eyes shining with tears, Dean couldn’t find it in him to be worried about the people in Heaven watching. Instead, he just closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Sam’s.

**

Sam heard it, the heartbeat, and then felt his brother tense. And that was all it took for Sam to burst into tears once more, not caring about his broken and bruised body, just caring that Dean was hugging him back, holding him, and nothing in the world mattered anymore. Dean was back, and Sam could be happy.

‘Easy, baby brother.’ He left Dean’s chest, pulling back to check that he was real, that the green eyes were that of his brother, and found Dean staring at him with an unreadable expression. Unreadable, until his eyes flicked to Sam’s lips, and before the younger could even process what that could mean, he had an answer. Warmth, a brief touch of lips to his, but Sam was a starving man. Starved, because his brother had been dead, and now he was back, and giving Sam what the younger Hunter had always wanted.

Dean didn’t protest Sam moving closer, deepening the kiss, or the way that Sam let his mouth part to invite Dean in. And, even when a clapping filled the room, Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. Slowly, pulling back and not missing the flash of desire on his brother’s face, they turned to see Gabriel, Archangel blade in hand, staring at the two of them.

‘Well, I’m always down for a little snuggling.’ A flirtatious wink, before he turned towards the door, ‘Always knew Dad made you soulmates for a reason.’ It wasn’t a shocking piece of news, not when they had shared a Heaven, but Sam still felt the flush of warmth rush through. Dean, who had hold of his hand, squeezed gently.

‘Thank you.’ Dean stated, shocking both Sam and Gabriel, but the Archangel just gave a lopsided grin.

‘Don’t thank me, I don’t have enough mojo to heal your beau.’ A flap of wings, and Gabriel was gone, Dean’s hands instantly all over him, though sadly not for the reason he wanted.

‘Hurt?’ His hands found the main wounds, but Sam couldn’t find the energy to care about being hurt. He just smiled widely at Dean, gave his brother puppy-dog eyes until Dean caved in, leaning in to kiss him once more, and Sam hummed happily.

‘I love you, Dean.’ A breach of the no chick-flic moment rule, but Dean’s lips still quirked up slightly.

‘Yeah, I love you too Sammy.’ He then cleared his throat, evidently uncomfortable with the mushy feelings, ‘Bitch.’ He added, just for good measure. Sam laughed, even though his throat hurt, laughed even as he heard the door to the Bunker open, Castiel’s voice ringing out.

‘Jerk.’


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cute scene between the Gang!

‘Why?’ Sam inquired, looking across to Gabriel, who was drumming his fingers on top of the table. Strangely, it was a comforting sound, Sam thankful for the Archangel coming to answer his questions. Like why there was direct line between the Bunker and Heaven.

‘I honestly don’t know. It’s witchcraft, as far as I can tell. Dark magic.’ Lucifer had known, Sam had put that part of the puzzle together. He glanced upwards, to where Dean and Cas had said the camera was, where Gabriel told him it was still playing. His family, everyone he had loved, and lost, able to see what he was doing. Again, not creepy, more comforting. They could see he was alive. The only issue was that they had also seen him kissing his big brother.

‘Lucifer might have orchestrated it.’ Gabriel added, apologising quickly after Sam flinched. He didn’t want to think about the Devil, didn’t want to remember the way Lucifer had come back into his life and hurt him, made him break down. Dean… just the thought of what the Devil had done made him miss his brother.

‘Don’t worry, it isn’t like there’s anything they can’t see.’ Sam stated, then thought back to the kiss, to the look in Dean’s eyes. To the way Castiel found them, sitting on the floor in each other’s embrace, and had told them it was about time. Soulmates, Gabriel had said that, and Sam couldn’t be happier.

‘Sure about that?’ Gabriel asked, winking flirtatiously in his direction, and Sam rolled his eyes. The Archangel was always flirting with one of them, Dean because it freaked him out, but Sam had grown used to the remarks. It was part of Gabriel’s personality, and made him less Archangel, more Trickster. A nice thing, to reassure Sam that he wasn’t like his older brothers.

‘That’s saved for elsewhere.’ Sam joked, and it was a joke, they hadn't gone past kissing. Dean was worried that Sam wasn’t ready, and Sam couldn’t stop thinking about Lucifer, which was never a good thing when he was about to commit incest. Gabriel laughed, a sound that had Sam smiling, before his expression grew to a worried look.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Gabriel, an Archangel older than Sam could wrap his head around, was asking if he was alright. Sam couldn’t honestly say yes, not when every time he shut his eyes, he saw the Devil’s wings and red eyes, but he shrugged.

‘As good as I can be, I guess.’ The pout from the Angel was enough to tell Sam that he wasn’t impressed with the answer, but it was broken by Castiel coming into the library, his phone in hand, tie awkwardly messed up around his neck, and his trench-coat messed up.

‘Cas?’

‘I got a call while I was in the shower. Awkward contraptions, far too many settings, and I’m afraid I haven’t yet learned how to properly tie my tie.’ Gabriel was laughing again, but Sam just smiled softly, knew that the Angel was still upset about losing some of his Grace.

‘Who was the call from?’ Sam asked, standing up to walk to Cas’s side, fingers quickly sorting the tie and tightening it. Cas looked pleased, shot him a smile, before taking a seat.

‘Dean. He’s bringing Jody to the Bunker, apparently she wants to see you.’ Code for Dean had told Jody that Lucifer had been back, and now she was worried that Sam was spiralling, so was coming to check on him. He fought a frown, knowing Dean was doing this to try and make sure he was okay, and Sam did like Jody. She was quickly bordering on motherly, the way she was looking after him, and that was good. He liked it, was enjoying having someone that would act like that around him. Dean was less fond, thought of her as a friend, maybe because he had a Mother. So did he, he reminded himself, looking up to the point where they could see him, where his Mom could see him.

‘That’s my cue to leave, that lady’s scary.’ Gabriel stood, dusted of his shirt like it had magically got dirty since sitting there, grinned across at the both of them.

‘Look after yourselves, call if you need me.’ With that, he vanished, and Cas turned to Sam.

‘We should probably thank Crowley and Rowena as well.’ Sam chuckled, wondered what his Dad would think about him thanking the King of Hell and a Witch, but he found himself uncaring, remembering that the two of them had risked their lives just because Dean had died. He flipped his phone out, dialled Crowley first, putting the phone on speaker.

‘Moose. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and let the Devil out again.’ He restrained the flinch this time, even managed to crack a smile.

‘Crowley, how about a drink? I’ve got a bottle of scotch with your name on it.’ He didn’t even try to be mean, not when Crowley had been responsible for saving Sam, for bringing Dean back to him. The King of Hell paused, and Sam could almost hear the smile grow on the Demon’s face.

‘It better be a vintage.’ The King hung up, Sam dialling the second number as Cas walked across to where Sam had stashed a nice bottle, getting glasses as well.

‘Samuel, always a delight.’ Her Scottish accent rung out, Sam pleased that somehow, he had managed to convince her to stay on their side.

‘Fancy a drink?’

‘Celebrating? Always, can I get a free ride?’ He chuckled, knew already what she meant, promised that Gabriel would be there to pick her up soon. Just because he knew the two of them were secretly eye-fucking each other, didn’t mean he needed to see it. Sam hung up the phone a second time, spoke aloud, aiming the prayer directly.

‘Hey Gabe, fancy bringing Rowena to us?’ He added a silent amen, poured a drink from the bottle Cas had brought across, sliding it to the Angel. A second glass, which he slid down the table. It would have fallen, had Crowley not appeared, catching it perfectly. Sam poured his own drink, looked to the Demon, who was smiling slightly, approvingly.

‘I’d almost say you have good taste.’ Crowley said, eyeing the drink up, just as the Bunker door opened and Dean walked in.

‘Never mind, I retract the statement.’ Castiel scowled at the Demon, but Sam couldn’t care less, not when he knew Crowley was joking, and Dean was here. His brother was quick to assess the situation, finding Sam’s gaze, and gave him a smile that Sam returned, dimples showing. Jody was walking behind him, brushing past when she spotted Sam, running across to hug him.

Her arms wrapped around him, and he hugged back just as tightly, a rushing of air telling him that Gabriel was back, with Rowena in tow. Jody pulled back, ruffled his hair, cupped a cheek and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.

‘Everything okay?’ All the others were talking, dutifully pretending not to listen to the conversation, which Sam was thankful for. She didn’t say anything as a tear slipped, her thumb brushing across his cheek, and he smiled.

‘It will be.’ Jody smiled, hugged him again, before Dean said something about ordering a takeaway. Sam turned, found the group arguing about what food was best, and he felt the weight lift off his chest, looking across at his family. Jody took his hand, squeezed, then walked across to smack Crowley’s hand away from a drink, his eyebrows shooting up, before an impressed look crossed his face.

Yeah, this was his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys be interested in more? What would you want to see?


	4. Slipping away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is starting to struggle, and Dean is back-tracking

Sam yawned, leant back in the chair and rubbed his forehead, abandoning the lore on a recent Hunt Dean was obsessed with. The silence in the Bunker indicated that his brother was still in bed, and Castiel wasn’t around, which led to a good conclusion. He looked to the corner of the Library that hosted the camera to Heaven, wondered if they were watching right now. Curiously, he stood, walked across slowly to the spot just below, took a seat against the edge of the table.

He didn’t know where to start. No, that was a lie, he knew exactly where to start. Hesitantly, knowing that if they weren’t listening, this was going to be awkward, he glanced upwards. Guilt, shame, all the feelings he kept locked down, but he needed them now.

‘Charlie…’ He paused, the name unspoken for so long, and Sam knew why. His eyes burnt, chest ached painfully, biting the inside of his cheek to block the memories that came flooding back. God, this was pathetic, he just needed to get on with it. Focusing, he cleared his throat, clutched at the table to stop his hands from shaking.

‘I’m sorry. For a lot of things, but mostly, for getting you killed.’ A sharp intake of breath, to soothe his racing heart, and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his hand with the other.

‘I knew the risks, should have kept you safe. Hell,’ this time he did choke back a sob, felt the pressure in his head building, ‘Dean was right. It should have been me on that pyre.’ Sam slumped, wished it had been him, pressed his thumb against the skin of his palm, until it broke and blood beaded to the surface, and he released the grip. He was almost surprised, staring at the old scar that he had just broken, curious at the lack of pain he felt when the blood spilled.

‘Sammy?’ Sam jerked from the table, hid his bleeding hand effectively from his brother, offered his best grin.

‘Morning Dean.’ Dean only hesitated for a moment, before grumbling about it being too early, walking in the direction of the kitchen. Sam looked down to his hand, was quick to press the sleeve of his jumper to it, stopping the blood from spreading. With that done, he followed his brother in the direction of food.

**

‘Sam, you appear to be hurt.’ Sam jumped, looked across to Cas, who was yet again silently stalking the corridors. He moved his hand off the table, aware that there was a bandage across it, and yeah, maybe he’d dug slightly deeper once he’d got to the shower, but it was nothing he wasn’t handling.

‘It’s nothing, Cas.’ He assured, the Angel tilting his head in that confused manner, as if trying to ascertain if Sam was telling the truth. Satisfactory, according to the way Cas relented, moving in the direction of Dean’s room. Sam might have been jealous, had he not known the way the Angel pushed them to be together.

With the Angel gone, Sam looked back to his hand, found the urge to dig into the skin again growing. Maybe it was because of what happened with Lucifer, he reasoned, seeing his insides on the outside must have been a pretty grim refresher of the Cage. It made sense, therefore, that he was numb to such a small amount of pain. He found himself shifting slightly, reaching for the knife he kept tucked in his boot, already knowing how badly this could go.

Just the slightest nick, just above his wrist, and he was surprised when it hurt this time. He pulled back sharply, suddenly aware that he was sitting in the library where anyone could walk in, witness him slowly losing his mind. Holding that thought, he shoved the blade back into the holder, huffed a broken laugh as he looked to the page that was now stained with blood.

‘I’m going insane.’ He said aloud, satisfied when it rang out slightly, echoing in the empty space. Yeah, definitely insane.

**

The thing was, they weren’t watching. Why would they? There wasn’t any point, it would bore them half to death, watching him fuck up the same situations over and over again. Maybe, if they saw Dean on the screen, they would turn it up. Listen, actually bother paying attention, but with him? There wasn’t a reason to do so, he assured himself, nobody was watching him. He was always alone, just like Lucifer insisted, him and the Devil for eternity.

Was this a dream? Did he die in the Bunker? Thinking back, Sam wasn’t entirely sure if he ever got out of the Cage at all, it all seemed a little bit blurry now that he thought about it. He took another steady gulp of whiskey, the only sustenance his body had seen in a little over twenty-four hours, and wondered if he was dying. If this was the Cage, then the emptiness made sense. He hadn't seen Dean, who wasn’t really speaking to him now that the awkward kiss incident had happened, and it led to the conclusion that maybe Sam imagined that moment where their lips touched.

He was so tired of fighting. That was his current issue, as he examined the images of the bodies that a recent case had brought up. He spread them across the table, examining the gruesome images, of people that died in the most extreme ways. Pausing on one photo, the bright lights of the library illuminating the image, he examined the bloody gash across the man’s stomach, the way his guts were spilling out.

‘Huh, looks like me.’ Sam stated aloud, then laughed at his own joke, before his vision started to blur. Stumbling, gripping at the table like a lifeline, the other to his head, shaking away the fog. No, this wasn’t the Cage, the pain wasn’t the same.

 ** _‘Really fucked me up there, Lucifer.’_** He wasn’t sure when his lips started shifting words into Enochian, maybe at the same point where some more cuts magically appeared on his left forearm, but he figured that it wasn’t too much of a big deal, right? He looked once more to the spread images, then to the books he had open on the library desk, and went to get a coffee.

**

‘Found anything?’ Dean wasn’t looking at him, again, which made Sam ache in such a painful way. His big brother had gone straight in the direction of the kitchen, not even sparing him a glance, even when Sam looked after him longingly.

‘Not yet.’ Sam replied, wondering when his voice got so rough. Maybe sometime after his sixth coffee, the Hunter thought, looking at the edge of the table. If he banged his head against it hard enough, he might succeed in knocking himself out so he could get some rest.

‘Well, there’s got to be something.’ Dean’s voice carried to the library, and Sam quickly assured his brother he would find something. As soon as he was sure Dean was gone, he groaned and flopped against the table, head into a book that he was pretty sure was made of human skin. Lucifer had tried that once, down in the Cage, had tried drying out the skin that he managed to take from his limbs.

‘Come on Sam. You’re a Hunter, for Hell’s sake.’ He snapped, mostly at himself, pulling his body back and staring at the book. His brother reappeared, walking in the direction of the Garage, probably to go and tinker with Baby. He did that sometimes, when he was stressed or trying to avoid Sam, and the younger could understand. He didn’t want to be around himself, how could Dean ever manage?

‘Take a shower, Sam, you stink.’ That was it. Sam stood, almost fell when his limbs didn’t cooperate, before he shut the books.

‘Yeah. Shower. Right.’ One foot, then the other. He made it to the end of the table, looked to the corridor leading to the showers, and groaned again.


	5. Dean!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam falls of the wagon, Dean gets a lecture

He knew he was getting worse, slipping further than he could get out from, watching more blood drain from his veins. At least it was hygienic, he told himself, even as his wrists stung and his head pounded. Shutting the water off, he forced himself to move, wrapped fresh bandages over the wounds and got dressed. This was fine, he told himself, he just needed to keep going. The walk back to the library took longer than normal, and Sam internally screamed, knowing he needed food.

But he didn’t go to the kitchen. Instead, he slumped down into one of the chairs, forced his hands forwards to pick up a book. There, he could do this, one tiny step at a time. The words blurred, his eyesight straining over something that should be simple, and he felt his heart cracking. He wasn’t even sure what was wrong, why was he doing this? Lucifer was gone, Sam should be happy, but instead he was wallowing. It was nothing less than selfish, he firmly stated, before realising he had said that aloud.

It didn’t matter, Dean had been avoiding him, drinking as a coping method, and if that wasn’t a sure sign that Sam was bad news, he didn’t know what was. Look at him, a Hunter in this thirties, who should be more than capable of living by himself, yet was dragging everyone down with him. His nails dug into his arm, the sting fresh enough to calm his mind, and the words came into focus. Maybe it was what happened after Dean was brought back, the kiss. Maybe Sam had been the one to initiate it, and Dean felt sorry for him.

That had to be it. Sam was dragging Dean down to hell with him. That thought was a dangerous one, leading to the memories of Dean, being ripped apart by Hellhounds. Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the Bunker, Sam gasping and straining and falling, hand reaching for his throat, desperate to stem the panic. But how could he? He had seen Dean die so many times, in so many ways, and he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t watch his brother die again. Sam was bad, he brought bad luck, and he’d get his brother killed.

‘Sam?’ Castiel was in front of him, eyes shining with worry, and Sam made a note of the fact that Castiel was finally back, that the Angel looked terrified. Yet another thing that was his fault, and he tried to convey that, forced his lungs to push enough air out to apologise, but it didn’t do a lot. In fact, it seemed to make the Angel worry more, a hand reaching for his forehead. Blindly, Sam tried to bat him away, not needing him to see the mess he had made of himself.

‘Oh Sam…’ Castiel was grabbing at him, holding him close, and Sam was trying to fight. He wasn’t even sure why he was fighting, whether it was to stop someone seeing him like that, or he was afraid of tainting Castiel further.

‘DEAN!’ The Angel was shouting, for the last person that Sam wanted to see him like this. If he’d been in his right mind, he might have noted how quickly Dean came running, how petrified he looked when he spotted them on the floor. But Sam was seconds away from passing out, felt hands move and Castiel leave, which worried him further.

‘Hey Sammy, deep breaths for me, okay?’ Sam heard some of the words, others slipping away from his understanding, but he fought to try and do what his brother said. It was instinct, he had to listen to Dean, that was what his brother wanted.

‘That’s it, kid, focus on me, alright?’ Dean’s voice was strained, hurt, and his breath didn’t smell like alcohol, so maybe Sam had been wrong. Maybe Dean wasn’t drinking to cope with his problems, because he didn’t have any. Sam was the one with all the issues, causing drama over something when he should be relaxing. He found his eyes burning, realised he must be crying, and wished that the ground would just swallow him up.

‘… arms, I’m not sure…’ Castiel’s voice, distantly, pinged something inside his head. Dean was moving him, rearranging so he had a hand free, and Sam began to fight his brother when he realised where Dean’s destination was. Unfortunately, lack of oxygen, and the fact he couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last, meant he was a lot weaker than his big brother. His shirt sleeve was torn, Dean holding his arm as Castiel stripped the bandages, probably because he didn’t have enough Grace to be wasting it on someone like Sam.

Dean made a sound that reminded Sam of the time he had been strangled to death, somewhere along the 40th Tuesday he had experienced, and wasn’t that a brilliant thing to think about when panicking? His hand was clutching at Dean’s shirt, the other in Dean’s hand, while he tried to bring back the arm that Dean was staring at.

There was the sound of rushing air, another person joining the mix, and Sam vaguely had the attention span to note Gabriel’s golden eyes staring down at him, equal mixtures of anger and worry written on his face. Sam wanted to apologise, tried to do so, but two fingers pressed against his head and he lost the battle of staying awake.

**

‘What in DAD’S NAME were you THINKING?’ Gabriel shoved him, hard, and Dean almost fell over the library table. He probably deserved it, knew that if his Dad was watching (which was likely, according to Gabriel), he’d be kicked to Hell for hurting Sammy like that. He didn’t fight Gabriel, thought that if the Archangel beat him up, at least he’d be hurting like he should be. Sadly, Gabriel seemed to have figured that out, had gone quite still. A silence fell over the room, even Castiel was glaring in his direction, and that was evidence enough that Dean had fucked up big time.

He wasn’t sure why he did it. When Sam needed him, Dean had suddenly decided to leave. He’d used every excuse under the sun to be away from Sam, and he knew why, deep down. Seeing Sam cut up, seeing his baby brother curling up next to him, ready to die because Dean was, struck a chord in his heart. Sam shouldn’t want to live because of him, maybe that was why his baby brother had kissed back, because he was so desperate for Dean to live.

So, he had been wallowing in his own self-pity, thinking that distance from Sam would help the younger Hunter want to live. He hadn't really thought about the fact that he hadn't seen Sam eating, or he found a razor blade in the shower with blood, presuming Sam nicked himself when shaving. Earlier, he’d stopped by Sam’s room, curiosity getting the better of him, only to find the door open, room untouched.

‘I screwed up, okay?’ Dean admitted, felt the bitter tang to the words. Gabriel looked old, all of a sudden, sighing as he sat down on one of the chairs, head in his hands. The headache, Dean reminded himself, caused by too many people sharing one Heaven praying to him. Because they had seen what Sam was doing to himself, even if Dean had been to caught up to do so.

‘I thought I explained it, why would you reject a soulmate?’ Castiel looked so confused, face scrunched up, and Dean felt the weight of the word. Sam had been so happy, Dean so worried, because wasn’t it his worse fear? Knowing that his brother loved him back, and Dean had treated him like shit trying to hide his own emotions?

‘Cassie, it’s not really a social norm.’ Gabriel offered, not looking to Dean. Truthfully, Dean had gotten over the brothers part a long time ago, had come to the conclusion that Sam was the only thing for him. It didn’t mean he wanted Sam to do the same.

‘But I thought Sam expressed similar interests to Dean’s?’ Dean could have sobbed, his heart aching so fucking much, his need to go and be by his brother’s side, but knowing Gabriel wouldn’t allow it. The Archangel was fiercely protective of his baby brother, Dean knew that, and he didn’t fancy Gabriel smiting him.

‘Winchester’s are stupid, idiotic, emotionless fools that are blind to what is best for themselves.’ Gabriel snarled, aiming every single word at Dean, and he took it. It was true, but seconds after, the Archangel’s expression softened.

‘Dean Winchester, I’m going to say this once, so you better listen. I understand why you pull away, but you have to see that the way you and Sam were raised is not your fault. You may feel like it’s your fault, him loving you, and try to hide it, but it isn’t. Dad made you soulmates, you were made for each other. So, stop trying to act so much like your Dad for once, show your brother a little love.’ Dean froze, knew that if it had been anyone other than the two people in the room, he’d have hit them. Instead, Dean hung his head in shame, watched Gabriel move around the table to him.

‘You’re a good man, Dean. An even better Hunter. But right now, all you need to be is a big brother.’ Gabriel was gone before Dean could look up, Castiel giving him a small smile, before turning to the door.

‘I’ll give you some space for a while, call me if you need me.’ With that, Dean looked down to his hands, took a deep breath, and stood up. Gabriel was right, it was time to be a big brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty stuff next chapter?


	6. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope

Sam padded out of his room, quite unsure if he was alone in the Bunker, if he’d lost everything that he held dear. The thought had tears building, but he told himself he deserved to be in such pain, after everything that had happened. He deserved to be unhappy, and that was why he forced himself to keep walking, appearing in the library. It surprised him that it had been such a short walk, it had seemed so long before, all the times he’d had to force himself to the showers and back. Now, it wasn’t long enough, not to stem the heartbreak he was inevitably going to find when he found the Bunker empty.

He hadn't realised how much he needed to see Dean, not until he found his brother slumped in one of the chairs, head in his hands. Just that sight, knowing Dean hadn't run, it made the pain lessen. He at least had time to say goodbye before Dean kicked him out, or left him again, he had time. So, Sam moved forwards carefully, aware that he was wearing just his undershirt and jeans, so his arm was visible. The Angels hadn't healed him, and he knew why, he had to live with his mistakes. The first step into the room had Dean’s head snapping up, eyes meeting his, before they dropped to his arm.

‘Sammy.’ Yeah, okay, Sam had missed that a lot. He was surprised he was still upright, the pain of hearing that name being called was unbearable, it felt like his heart was bleeding. But he didn’t say anything, just took another step, Dean shoving the chair back and standing up. Not running, Sam noted, and there it was. Hope, beginning to build in his chest, and he couldn’t squash it. Tears were already forming, because he knew he shouldn’t be hopeful, he didn’t deserve Dean.

‘Come here, little brother.’ Dean stated, voice firm, and Sam wobbled slightly at it. It was his choice now, Sam had to decide to let Dean break his heart, and he would make that choice in a heartbeat. Even if it hurt, even if it killed every time he lost Dean, he still wouldn’t ever deny himself the pleasure of being close to his big brother. More steps, tears spilling as he got closer to the inevitable, to losing Dean again, because he always did.

What surprised him was arms wrapping around him, a hand guiding his head to under Dean’s chin, like when he needed his brother the most. He barely had time to squeak out Dean’s name before he was tucked up, held close, and Sam could hear Dean’s heart hammering away in his chest. Alive. For now, Sam reminded himself, but it was too late. The hope had blossomed, and now Sam was gripping at his brother’s shirt, trying to be as physically close at possible. He needed it, needed to be close. Just for now, he could let himself have this, would punish himself for it later.

‘Shh, that’s it, kid, breath.’ Oh yeah, Sam was still crying, dampening the front of his brother’s shirt, so he pulled back ready to apologise. He was slightly knocked by the fact that Dean was also crying, tears staining his cheeks, and the apology floated in his mind as he took in the picture that was his brother’s face. So beautiful, Sam thought, even when he was crying.

‘Dean.’ There, he’d managed a word, was planning on saying more but he couldn’t. The hand on the back of his head was gripping his hair, and then there were lips against his, and he forgot how to think. Everything vanished, gone, forgotten, at the feeling of Dean’s lips against his. Sam’s mind got back online, quick enough to kiss back, to stop Dean from pulling away. Heat, soft lips, teeth nipping and sucking at his lower lip, Sam gasping as Dean’s tongue flicked out to deepen the kiss. He was moving, being turned so his body hit the library table, sitting up on it and spreading his legs so Dean could settle between them.

The hand in his hair was twisting Sam’s head, moving so Dean’s lips could seal over Sam’s neck, right over the pulse-point, and oh God, Sam had never felt so happy in all his life. The groan fell from his lips, hands gripping at Dean and hoping to hold on for the ride, Dean desperate as his lips resealed over his. He wanted it, wanted Dean to mark him, so that he’d have a piece of his brother even if Dean never kissed him again.

Panting, the older pulled back, let their foreheads touch, breathing in each other’s air as they stayed close. Sam’s hands were roaming, up along his brother’s back and to the muscular arms that were boxing his body in. Strangely, he didn’t feel closed in, just comfortable.

‘Sammy.’ His brother’s voice sounded wrecked, deep and full of emotions that Sam longed for. He tilted his head, Dean pulling back to look into his eyes, and Sam found his mouth go dry. Dean’s pupils were blown wide, a look of such adoration, and Sam knew he was mirroring it.

‘Dean.’ He replied, the simplest thing in the world. Dean’s smile grew.

‘Bitch.’ That had Sam smiling back, dimples and all.

‘Jerk.’ Dean ducked to catch his lips again, Sam more than willing to respond, before Dean pulled back suddenly, a fierce look of determination on his face.

‘Say yes.’ Sam cocked his head, confused, and slightly surprised, that was always such a powerful word for Sam, what with Lucifer trying to draw it from his lips for so long, for suffering torture that he really didn’t need to think about, just because of those three letters.

‘Yes.’ Dean chuckled, brushed aside Sam’s hair with his thumb.

‘You didn’t ask why.’

‘I don’t need to.’ Sam shot back, knowing it was true, and Dean’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back.

‘Marry me.’ His heart must have stopped, because he was feeling like the world had shifted beneath him, glad he wasn’t standing, otherwise he’d have been on the floor. Dean didn’t say anything, waited for him to answer, and Sam linked their fingers together.

‘Yes.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planning on this being the last chapter, unless you guys want more


	7. Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, smutty, cute

‘I’m being the best man!’ Gabriel argued, pouting at Castiel, who frowned.

‘But they are both men?’ A silence, followed by the Archangel grinning.

‘Then we can both be!’ This, of course, caused more arguments.

‘Why am I not being a bridesmaid?’ Rowena added, while Crowley shook his head.

‘I’m ordained to permit a marriage.’ That caused a lot of heads to turn, staring at the King of Hell in confusion. He just shrugged, continued emptying the Bunker of Scotch.

‘Why don’t we wait till the boys decide?’ Jody pointed out, Alex and Claire having already stated that they wanted to be bridesmaids, but they fell silent at this point.

‘Hang on, why don’t I get to be best man? I’m the most human.’ Garth pointed out, while Jody frowned, ready to point out the obvious, that Garth was a werewolf.

‘But we’re actually humans.’ Donna said, having mostly avoided the argument so far. Jody verbally agreed, as did the girls, and the humans looked pretty smug.

**

Sam rose his head, where it was resting against Dean’s chest, happy in the momentary peace. They should be going out, to where their friends were in the Bunker, but Dean was shifting so his hips were pressing up against Sam’s thigh, and okay, he wasn’t thinking about the group anymore. No, he was focused on the smirk on Dean’s face, the knowing look in his big brother’s eyes as Sam tried to get closer. It wasn’t fair, Dean was so confident with things like this, where as Sam honestly flushed at even the slightest touch.

‘Dean…’ He knew his voice came out as a whine, reached for his brother with grabby hands, and Dean never denied him anything. Rolled on top, heavy weight pressing him into the bed, and Sam squirmed happily under. They were both naked, tucked in the safe heat of Dean’s bed, and Sam was more than happy to spread his legs and let Dean settle between them.

‘Want somethin’, Sammy?’ Yeah, he wanted a lot of things, like the hard heat pressed against his inner thigh, the devilish tongue sneaking out to lick Dean’s lips, that Sam knew felt good pressed against his skin. Those hands, one already gripping both of his and pinning them back into the mattress. Vulnerable, but only with Dean, knew his brother wouldn’t push him further than he could take.

‘Please.’ Was all he said, urged his hips up to Dean’s, gasped when the friction aided the arousal curling in his belly. It felt good, not nearly enough, and Sam was more than willing to beg for it. He shifted his gaze, the puppy-dog eyes that Dean couldn’t resist, let his lips fall open slightly and breathed out heavily. Dean growled, captured his lips in a heated kiss, started moving his hips against Sam’s. This was how he wanted to wake up, every morning, pressed against Dean with that fierce look of love that shined in those emerald eyes.

‘God, Sammy, the things you do to me.’ Sam could imagine, reached down between them to wrap a hand around Dean’s cock, shifted his hips so he was pressed against his hole. They’d made love last night, enough prep that Sam knew he’d be able to take Dean like this comfortably, even if his brother hesitated. Sam didn’t wait, gripped Dean’s hips and urged him forwards, into the heat of his body. There, that was where he belonged, and Sam certainly enjoyed it. He felt so full, loved the feeling of Dean inside him, gripped at his brother’s shoulders.

‘Slow and sweet, Sammy? Or hard and fast?’ Normally, Sam would have said slow and sweet. Dean would take his time, drive out the pleasure until Sam felt like he was blissed out, until they came together quietly, with shudders and breathless pants of air. But this time, with the looming threat of the group waiting for them in the Bunker, with the urge to feel Dean in him, he decided on the second.

‘Hard, De, please.’ Dean shuddered, a full body movement, before pulling almost entirely out.

‘Roll over for me, Sammy.’ He did as told, spreading his knees wider and lowering down, pressing his chest to the bed without even hesitating. Dean swore under his breath, settled behind him and pushed in slowly, a smooth thrust that had Sam clinging to the sheets beneath him. Yeah, this was what he had been craving, what he needed. Dean did as asked, sped up almost immediately, hammering into him with such urgency that Sam sobbed, biting down onto the pillow that his head was stuffed against. Every third thrust was hitting his prostate, Dean, the bastard, knowing exactly what he was doing as he pounded in, fingers around Sam’s hips hard enough to bruise.

He loved it. Loved every second, the complete feeling, the thought of bursting just from being stuffed so full. Dean’s lips were spouting dirty talk, praising Sam on how well he was taking it, on how hot and tight he was, and from the way the thrusts were beginning to hit deep, he knew Dean must be close. But his brother never left him hanging, always made sure to get him there first. Never in a conventional way, either, taking one of Sam’s hands and guiding it not to his cock, but to his stomach.

He could feel Dean. Every thrust, every hit against his sweet spot, his stomach rounding slightly at the pressure. And that was all Sam could take, shouting out Dean’s name as his cock spurted over the sheets below him. Dean wasn’t far behind, biting down onto Sam’s shoulder blade as he spilled deep inside, grunting out his name and lapping at the mark to apologise.

After, when Dean pulled out slowly, Sam shivering at the feeling of suddenly being empty, this was another favourite moment. Dean pulled him close, nuzzled the back of his neck and breathed in his scent, reaching around to grab Sam’s arm. The one with the scars, that Sam refused Castiel’s help with healing. Dean’s fingers brushed over them, lightly, tracing each one with care.

‘I love you, Sammy.’ He muttered, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, and Sam smiled against the pillow.

‘I love you too, Dean.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think?

**Author's Note:**

> Do you guys want a second chapter? Anything you want to see?


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